


Bewitch the Mind and Ensnare the Senses

by RenesmeeGreene



Series: Calla Lily [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Brother-Sister Relationships, Dursley Family Bashing (Harry Potter), F/M, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, Hogwarts Chamber of Secrets, Legilimens, Mentor Severus Snape, Original Character(s), Parseltongue, Protective Older Brothers, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenesmeeGreene/pseuds/RenesmeeGreene
Summary: Harry’s younger sister Calla is excited to start her first year at Hogwarts and get away from the abuse of the Dursley’s, but as a legilimens, her natural mind-reading gift will isolate her from her classmates, unite her with one snarky potions professor, and assist the trio in their search for the Chamber of Secrets.  She learned how to make use of her skill to protect herself from their physically aggressive uncle, but Snape will show her there is so much more to learn.  Harry struggles with knowing who he is amidst rumors saying he is the Heir of Slytherin.  And once the school year is over, they still have to face the Dursleys and attempt to hide their home life from the people who love them the most.  The story will take place during Harry's second and third year at Hogwarts and follow a relatively canon plot in regards to their yearly adventures looking for the Chamber of Secrets, and trying to find Sirius Black in their third year.  Whump! Harry pretty much the entire time.  Snape Mentors Calla, and later Harry.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Calla Lily [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678003
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Harry and Severus





	1. An Unwanted Warning

**Title:** Bewitch the Mind and Ensnare the Senses

 **Disclaimer:** Out of courtesy, I am compelled to state that I do not claim ownership over the characters I am using. They are the original creation of J. K. Rowling, as is the rest of the Harry Potter World.

 **A/N:** Hello readers! This is not my first fanfiction, but it is my first story on this account. I have it all mostly planned out, but please provide feedback early on, as I might still modify future chapters.

**Chapter 1: An Unwanted Warning**

. . .

 _Pshhhh. Pshhhh._ A few seconds later the sound of a paper towel being ripped off of its roll.

Harry put down the spray bottle full of cleaner and wiped away at the picture frame he was holding. It was only the beginning of a whole wall of Dudley that adorned the front hallway of the Dursley household. The frame was painted bronze with carved edges that Harry was now scraping the dust out of. He held back a wince as a sharp pain flared up his bruised wrist as he cleaned.

Behind him was a cupboard under the stairs which the Dursleys forced him to sleep in for the first 11 years of his life. Often, they would lock him in there for days, and Harry learned at a young age how to handle an empty stomach and no access to a bathroom. Although currently, the only thing that was collecting dust in his cupboard was all of his school supplies.

 _Well, I did try to ask Vernon if I could have my school supplies back, and that ended poorly._ Harry held his hand to his ribs, tenderly feeling the bruises that speckled his abdomen. They had almost finished healing. He rubbed at the bruised wrist that he had used to shield himself from Vernon a few weeks ago, and then used his good hand to pick up the picture frame.

There was a scraping noise, but then Harry found the right spot for the nail and hung the frame back in its spot. He didn’t bother to tilt it back to a perfect 90 degrees, he preferred a mildly sideways Dudley.

Anything related to magic was currently forbidden by the Durselys, they were terrified of Harry, and he was using that to his advantage. Vernon allowed Harry to move out of his cupboard and into the room upstairs. Harry was grateful for the increased amount of space but still felt that he would start his second year at Hogwarts already behind compared to his classmates who had the whole summer to look at their new books.

 _Pshhhhhhhhhh._ Harry sprayed a bunch of frames at the same time, unconcerned at the extra cleaning solution that now dripped down the wall in between frames.

Harry had also wanted to show some of his spell books to his sister Calla.

Calla Lily Potter, the unborn child that nobody knew about when the Potters went into hiding, was a year younger than Harry. She had been eager to learn anything and everything about the wizarding world. Harry hesitantly told her about his numerous near-death experiences as he, Ron and Hermione looked for the Sorcerer’s Stone last year: finding Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, fluffy the three-headed dog, a giant game of chess, fighting off a troll, and coming face to face with Quirrell. Calla was rightfully unimpressed at how frequently Harry seemed to find himself in danger, but none of her brother’s tales could lessen her excitement to attend Hogwarts herself. 

Harry realized he had been drying off the same perfectly poised photo of the Dursley family for a while now. He grabbed the spray bottle and moved to the next row of Dudley portraits.

At that moment, Dudley opened his bedroom door and came thudding down the stairs. He had a tough look on his face, one that seemed like it took the overweight boy a lot of concentrated effort. Noise from the tv in his room told Harry he had just finished watching a boxing match. Harry picked up a delicate looking frame that hung next to him and slowly wiped at it with his paper towel.

“Hey, you know you’re almost skinny enough to be a punching bag,” Dudley barked, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

Harry sidestepped his cousin as he came barreling towards him and continued cleaning. “That doesn’t make any sense. And your mom would be pretty upset if anything happened to these.”

“What?”

“You don’t want to fight me right now, Dudley, because you’ll probably break one of these frames,” Harry explained slowly. 

Dudley had a dazed look but groaned once he realized he couldn’t hit Harry just for the fun of it. “But I want to fight people when I’m older, and… well, who else am I going to practice on? Where’s your freak sister?”

“Hey, your, uh your dad--he said he wants you to look nice for his work friends coming over tonight, so maybe not a great time to fight someone,” Harry replied quickly.

“I don’t care, I need to practice my right punch,” Dudley swung his left arm through the air, “and Daddy won’t buy me a punching bag.”

Dudley’s hands were in fists as he walked out of the front hallway and into the kitchen.

Harry immediately worried for his sister, but he didn’t know exactly where she was. He closed his eyes and allowed emotions to flood his thoughts. He forced himself to imagine _Dudley as a boxer, fists flying, hitting Harry, and he simulated the fear and surprise that comes from an unprovoked attack._

His breathing quickened, and he let the emotions spread deeper throughout his consciousness, and _he sat down against the wall, hands bracing the ground, defensive, unnerved,_ to be sure that this would have the right effect.

 _Be careful Calla, stay away from Dudley,_ he thought to himself. _Watch out for Dudley._

Harry paused and waited, hoping she had felt it.

. . .

Calla had been just putting away the trimmers in the shed when she noticed it.

Harry’s mind had always been familiar, even when they weren’t in the same room, it was always so easy for her to remember what the mist of his emotions felt like. It was as if from his mind there was a little tendril of smoke, ebbing and flowing in her direction that Calla could at any moment pinpoint and describe. She could always reach out and feel her brother’s presence, she could always listen to how he felt. 

Something had shifted though, Harry felt _afraid, and surprised, small, cowering, defensive, nervous, on-edge.._ . but things were cloudy and grey, so he was manufacturing those emotions. In reality, he felt _worried, panicked, and anxious._

He was sending her a message. Calla continued to listen, waiting for words to form out of the mist.

 _Defensive, fists flying, he’s afraid, it’s unexpected, what is it?_ Calla didn’t know for certain, but she walked out of the shed and towards the side of the house.

_Be careful Calla... stay away...Dudley._

The intensity of Harry’s somewhat forced emotions allowed his message to be much clearer.

The sound of Dudley opening the backdoor met her ears, and she quickly went around the house to the front door, opening it silently. As she walked in, she met the green eyes of her brother. He looked up at her from the ground, and he smiled, relieved.

“Why are you on the ground?” Calla asked quietly.

“I wanted to make sure you heard me. Stay out of range of Dudley’s fists.”

Calla said quietly, “Yep, I got it. He’s been watching boxing again, yeah?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. Calla went halfway up the stairs and then leaned casually over the railing, listening for Dudley. “Don’t upset Dudley either, okay Harry?” She said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry stood back up and began wiping away at the frames he hadn’t touched yet.

Calla continued onto her and Harry’s bedroom. The last year had been difficult with Harry so far away. She had spent the first 10 years of her life figuring out how to read Harry’s thoughts, and Harry had learned how to mentally send messages to her. The distance, however, made it impossible for her to read into Harry’s emotions.

Growing up, Dudley and Vernon would both take their anger out on Harry, and Harry did his best to protect Calla and used her skills at reading thoughts to do so. There were a few times when Harry sent her images of a park near their house, and mentally sent her the words “Get out.” Calla knew when that happened that she just needed to get out of the house because Vernon was on a rampage, and Harry didn’t want to see her get hurt. Unfortunately, that meant Harry would take the brunt of Vernon’s rage, but Harry made her swear to always get out of the house if he sent her that message.

Calla didn’t exactly know what she was doing at first, it took her a few years to realize she was hearing other people’s thoughts and not voices in her head. Reading into other people’s minds felt so natural for her. Harry helped her figure out how to read into people’s minds, and Calla honed her skill with her brother. What someone was thinking, they discovered, was closely linked with how they were feeling. Harry’s mind, when he was feeling very emotional, was an overwhelming symphony of colorful emotions and images. People are easier to read when they’re emotional. So when Harry needed to send her an urgent message, he would force himself to feel emotions more dramatically. Calla would notice the change in Harry’s mind and the heightened emotional state that he put himself in usually helped Calla understand his thoughts, and Calla could translate the images into words much easier.

At least that’s what the two of them have figured out thus far, again, they had no idea what it was they were doing.

Trying to interpret thoughts wasn’t like opening a book and perusing through bullet point ideas as you would casually scan black-and-white phrases on a page. In reality, Calla often sees images or ideas or memories or concepts which she later puts into words. Everyone’s mind had a unique flow to it, and she had learned the fingerprint of Harry’s mind quite well over the years. 

Calla enjoyed comparing her skill to watching smoke. You can see it, and you know what shape the smoke might look like in one moment, but the smoke can swirl and shift into another image seconds later. Anytime Calla tried to verbally describe what she was doing when she read into someone’s mind, it was like she was grabbing at the smoke and pinning it down...but smoke isn’t something that is meant to be held in your hands.

. . .

Harry and Calla had spent the rest of the day cleaning the windows, washing the car, mowing the lawn, trimming the flowerbeds, pruning and watering the roses, and repainting the garden bench. It was half-past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him in. 

"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!" 

Harry was more than happy to move inside and out of the heat. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.

"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. Calla had already started eating her portion and she glanced at her brother with a frown. Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. 

The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Get upstairs now, and be quiet the rest of the night! Hurry!” Aunt Petunia shooed Calla and Harry out of the kitchen.

As they passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. 

"Remember - one sound -" 

Harry and Calla exchanged glances and crossed to their bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door softly. Harry turned around, expecting to only be greeted by his snowy owl. 

Instead, he found himself staring at a creature that was bouncing gleefully on his bed. The little creature had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Calla gasped and grabbed Harry’s arm, standing behind him.

“Er- hello,” said Harry anxiously.

“Harry Potter! What an honor it is to meet you, sir! And who is Harry Potter’s friend?” The creature’s voice was high-pitched, almost a screech, and Harry worried that it would carry all the way downstairs.

“This is my sister, Calla.” Harry stepped to the side a little as Calla let go of his arm.

“Allow me to take your coat, Mr. and Mrs. Mason,” Dudley said politely at the front door.

Dobby’s bulging eyes seemed to bulge even more when a look of surprise passed over his face. “Dobby is humbled to be in the presence of you both.”

“Who are you?” Call said accusingly.

“I am Dobby, Dobby the house-elf sir,” the creature replied.

Aunt Petunia let out a laugh and invited the Masons into the living room.

Harry had a feeling that Dobby didn’t mean any harm, so he took a step towards him. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but this isn’t a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom.”

“Dobby understands, sir, Dobby is only here to tell Harry Potter something… and I suppose to also tell Calla Potter the same thing, uh… it is- it is- difficult sir, Dobby doesn’t know quite where to-” Dobby continued to grab at his clothes with his hands, looking down at the ground, embarrassed.

Harry offered, “Well, why don’t you sit down?”

“S- Sit… sit, d- down? Sit down?” Dobby burst into tears, wailing loud enough that the voices downstairs faltered.

“Shhh, I’m sorry-” Harry was at a loss for what he had done to offend Dobby, and he looked at his sister, hoping she could maybe glimpse Dobby’s thoughts.

Calla moved quickly and knelt to look at Dobby at the same height. “Hey, yeah Harry asked you to sit down because he is so kind, and uh he needs you to be kind to him in return and quiet down. Please stop crying Dobby.”

Dobby covered his sniffles with his ragged clothes but was still breathing quickly. He locked eyes with Calla and nodded in understanding.

“Dobby has heard of your greatness sir, but never, never, has Dobby been asked to sit down by a wizard, like… like an equal.”

Harry narrowed his gaze, not fully making sense of where this creature came from.

Dobby turned towards Calla and said “and Dobby has never met a legilimens with skills developed so young. What an honor to have met you, how great are Harry Potter and Calla Potter!” Dobby bowed again.

“Well, er, thanks Dobby,” Calla said before asking, “What did you say about me?”

Dobby seemed delighted with himself to explain to Calla what she could do. “Calla Potter is a legilimens. House-elves do not have the same magic as witches and wizards, but I can still feel when another is searching through my mind… your skills are impressive young Calla.”

Calla stuttered, “Uh okay...”

“So that’s what it’s called? Calla is a legilimens?” Harry asked.

Dobby nodded and shifted his eyes to Harry. Calla blinked, feeling lost from her attempt to look into Dobby’s mind. “That’s good to know, I guess. And he doesn’t mean us harm, I could feel that everything he says is true, but reading him...felt different.”

Harry looked at Dobby. “Well, he’s not human.” 

“Yeah, it’s as if there were significantly fewer thoughts and they were simpler, but altogether it was a different kind of…” Calla made some motions with her hands and Harry had a look of comprehension.

“Right. Well, I’m glad you don’t mean us harm, but why are you here Dobby?”

Dobby paced a little around the room as he spoke. “Dobby had to come. Dobby has to protect Harry Potter and his sister. To warn them. Harry Potter and Calla Potter must not go back to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry!”

Calla looked baffled. “What?”

“There is a plot. A plot to make the most terrible things happen.” Dobby added in an urgent whisper, “If Harry goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in grave danger!” Calla tried to gather something from Dobby’s mind, but she had never seen images fly so quickly, everything was a blur.

“What terrible things? Who’s plotting them?” Harry asked. 

Dobby panicked and looked around his room and began banging his head against Harry’s desk. The noise was definitely carrying downstairs.

Calla “Stop it, Dobby, punish yourself later! Please!”

Dobby stopped suddenly and tilted his head at Calla.

“He’s punishing himself?” Harry asked.

Calla furrowed her brow, still trying to interpret the frenzy of thoughts that were going on inside Dobby’s head. Her head was beginning to ache, and she put a hand to the side of her head.

“I think, I don’t- it’s hard to tell-”

“Hey, that’s okay.” Harry put a hand on Calla’s shoulder as she sat down and crossed her legs, looking Dobby in the eye.

“Dobby didn't mean to cause Calla Potter harm, Dobby never wanted to-” tears began to well up in Dobby’s eyes.

Calla squinted a little bit as she said, “Don’t punish yourself now, okay Dobby? You make too much noise, and our aunt and uncle need us to be quiet, and if we don’t do what they say they won’t let us go back-”

“-they won’t let us eat meals, they’ll starve us if we make too much noise tonight, okay? So we need you to be quiet,” Harry interrupted quickly.

Dobby nods again. His eyes wandered around the room, and he opened and then closed his mouth. He opened it again, “Dobby understands, ma’am. Dobby would not want to cause Harry Potter to be starved. Dobby will wait to punish himself.”

Harry sat down on the ground next to his sister, relieved to hear the sounds of the dinner party downstairs continuing like normal. “What’s going to happen at Hogwarts, you need to tell me Dobby,” Harry said in a stern tone.

Dobby shook his head and both of his tiny hands grabbed at his ears and pulled. He gritted his teeth and let out a little squeal.

Calla sighed, “You can’t tell us what it is, okay, fine. But we have to go back to Hogwarts, we don’t belong here.”

Harry agreed, “We belong in your world, at Hogwarts. It’s the only place we’ve got friends.”

Dobby let go of his ears. “Friends that don’t even write to Harry Potter, sir?”

“Well, I expect they’ve been… hang on-”

“You’ve been stealing Harry’s letters!” Calla deduced, seeing clearly into the mind of the house-elf now as he sheepishly reached into his clothes.

Dobby cowered and pulled out a stack of letters. Harry could make out Hermione's neat writing, Ron's untidy scrawl, and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid.

“Dobby has them here, ma’am.” He looked upset as he stammered, “Dobby thought that Harry would not want to return to Hogwarts if he thought his friends had forgotten about him. You mustn't be angry with Dobby.”

Harry held out his hand. “Dobby, give those back, now!”

Dobby clutched the letters and let out sort of a scared squeal, evading Harry’s hand which tried to grab him. He opened the door and in a few bounds was at the top of the stairs. Like a ping pong ball, Dobby rebounded down the stairs and raced towards the kitchen before skidding to a halt.

“Dobby get back here!” Harry whispered aggressively racing after the house-elf.

Calla followed behind her brother, trying to make as little noise as possible. She leaned over the stairwell, not sure how to help. Harry was trying to get Dobby to get out of the kitchen doorway.

Dobby raised his arm and snapped. The pudding that Petunia had worked on for hours now hovered above its plate.

“Dobby, please, no,” Harry begged.

“Harry Potter must say he won’t go back to school!”

“I can’t, Hogwarts is my home!”

Dobby looked pained. “Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter’s own good.” He snapped again and the pudding moved silently towards the couch in the living room. Harry pushed past Dobby and raised his hands trying to maybe catch it before it fell.

Calla put her hand in front of her mouth and looked at Dobby. He had a funny look on his face, and while they were making eye contact, Calla tried to push through the racing thoughts to understand what Dobby was trying to warn them from.

_Blonde haired man, Dobby was being kicked aside, wizards showing up at a manor, it was an incredibly nice house, they were exchanging words, “raids by the ministry”, she saw a disgusted expression, Calla was looking up at the men from a low angle, as if from Dobby’s perspective..._

_Dobby was talking to another house elf that was cowering in the corner and shaking his head, Dobby was trying to say something, it seemed urgent..._

_Dobby was polishing a set of armor, ‘who keeps a set of armor in their house these days?’, Calla mused, suddenly the man with the long blonde hair burst into the room and went straight for the desk and looked furiously through the drawers, cursing to himself, Dobby looked back at the armor and watched in the reflection as the man seemed to find what he was looking for, something small and black that he clutched in his hand, Dobby wiped again at the armor, he was using a maroon cloth..._

The sound of pudding falling ungracefully onto Mrs. Mason’s head interrupted Calla’s focus. What followed was a few seconds of stunned silence in the Dursley household. Dobby looked back at Harry and then disappeared with a CRACK!

Vernon said, “I’m so sorry. It’s my nephew, he’s very disturbed. Meeting strangers upsets him.” 

At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over. He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised Harry he would flay him to within an inch of his life when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice cream out of the freezer and Harry, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean. Calla walked down silently and began helping him clean up.

As they were dumping the icing into the trash, Harry avoided Calla’s gaze.

Calla sensed Harry thinking something along the lines of, _what will Vernon do?_

“Harry-”

“-it’ll be fine.”

Calla nodded, hands shaking as she wiped the floor clean.

“I uh, tried to look into Dobby’s mind, but it didn’t make any sense, I couldn’t figure anything out, I’m sorry…” Calla was not sure what else to say.

Harry didn’t reply but moved on to the section of the couch that had been most covered in pudding. He listened to his uncle and hoped that if the rest of the night went well, the beating he would get later wouldn’t be as bad.

Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal - if it hadn't been for the owl. Aunt Petunia was just passing around a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head, and swooped out again. Mrs. Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke

Vernon had a demonic glint in his eyes. He advanced on Harry, brandishing the letter and hissed, “Well go on, read it, boy!”

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_

_Ministry of Magic_

Harry looked up from the letter and gulped.

Vernon waved his finger at Calla. “You’ve been lying to us this whole time? Both of you aren’t allowed to use any of your freakishness while you’re here?” Harry moved and stood between Calla and his uncle.

“Don’t touch her. She did nothing wrong.”

“She’s a freak just the same as you are, BOY!” There was a mad gleam in Vernon’s eye and he started to raise his arms.

Harry wrapped his arm behind him and held onto Calla. Thinking fast he said, “and she needs to continue cleaning before the pudding stains the carpet.”

“FINE. The freak can stay and clean up. Boy, upstairs, NOW,” Vernon spat.

Harry climbed the stairs two at a time to stay ahead of his uncle who was barreling through the house behind him. Vernon slammed the door to Harry’s room and was standing over him in a second.

He shook his head and waved his arm flippantly and spat, “You ruined this evening, you cost me what could’ve been the biggest sale of my CAREER!” He swung his arm into Harry’s chest, where the bruises from a few weeks ago hadn’t fully healed.

Harry exhaled and fell on his knees, reeling from the pain. Vernon kicked him in the side a few times, and Harry curled up into a ball so that his knees protected his chest.

“Stand up, boy!” Vernon yelled.

Harry didn’t move fast enough, and Vernon kept kicking at his legs. Vernon finally grabbed Harry’s shirt and hoisted him up and slammed into his closet door. Harry’s knees started to buckle so Vernon hooked his elbow into Harry’s neck and held him upright.

His fist swung at Harry again and, a few times at his head which smacked roughly against the closet door. Black spots danced in his vision. Vernon let Harry fall to the ground and kicked at him again, making his head collide with the edge of his closet door. Blood trickled down his face. Vernon took a step back and paused, breathing heavily.

“Now I’ll have to explain this to my boss! You’ve cursed this whole household, you and your freakishness-”

Harry groaned and sat up, hoping that meant this was over for now. He coughed. His entire chest ached.

Vernon heaved, “As if I haven’t already taught you how I FEEL ABOUT YOUR LITTLE TRICKS!”

Vernon grabbed Harry’s arm and forced him to his feet.

“Uncle, it won’t happen again, I swear-” but Harry was interrupted when Vernon slapped him across the cheek.

“Nothing should’ve happened tonight at all! You went out of your way to screw things up for me!” Vernon tightened his grip on Harry’s arm, practically cutting off circulation and making Harry grimace.

“And do you know what else? Now I know that you’re not allowed to use magic when you’re not at school! And you’ve been taunting my Dudley with that for the last two months!” Vernon threw Harry onto the ground.

Calla heard a thud from the second floor as she sprayed more carpet stain remover. She shuddered, fearing the worst for Harry. For the next ten minutes, she heard the sound of Vernon’s fist coming into contact with Harry only interrupted by Vernon screaming insults at her brother. Calla cleared her throat and choked back a few tears. If it wasn’t already torturing enough to have to listen to this happen every time Vernon was angry at them, Calla could feel her brother’s pain through his mind. She felt his hurt and his desperation.

A few years ago, Harry made Calla swear that she would never do anything to try and stop Vernon because that typically only ended up making the beating worse. Harry would always take the blame, and anytime Vernon threatened Calla, Harry would step in, and Vernon usually didn’t go through the effort of trying to get past Harry to beat Calla. Calla wanted so badly to try and protect Harry, but every time she did that, it made everything worse, and both of them ended up too hurt to take care of the other.

Finally, she heard the sound of Vernon’s footsteps going down the stairs and into the dining room. Calla retreated into the kitchen and finished rinsing off the dishes as fast as she could. She grabbed a cloth and moistened it with cold water then moved towards her and Harry’s bedroom.

When she opened the door into Harry’s room, he had already pushed himself onto their bed and laid facing the wall, curled up on his side.

“Hey, you alright? Oh, Harry…” Calla said sadly as she reached her brother. She gently touched his shoulder and allowed Harry to roll over onto his back as he made a quiet whine of pain. He opened his eyes and met his sister’s concerned expression but grimaced, and moved his arm so that it was clutching his side. He tried to focus his eyes on his sister but his vision swam in front of him, and vertigo made his stomach lurch. He squeezed his eyes shut and took shallow breaths, trying to calm nausea.

Calla used the cloth to wipe at the blood on Harry’s face.

Harry swallowed and said, “Calla, I need you to try to-”

“Shh, it’s okay, just think it, and I’ll do my best to read them.” Calla put the cloth on Harry’s forehead, allowing the coolness to soothe his aching head and she rested her other hand on Harry’s arm.

 _I need you to try and pick the lock on the cupboard again,_ Harry thought.

“You want me to try to get to the cupboard? I couldn’t do it last time.”

 _You can do it, while the Dursley’s are asleep, you’ll have as long as you need._ Harry let out a breath and brought to mind his school trunk and the pocket that contained the medical supplies that he had snagged from Madame Pomfrey last year.

“You said to look in the pocket of your trunk instead of sleeping. Oh, while the Dursley’s are sleeping. Okay, I hope I can pick the lock, Harry, I’ll try really hard.”

Harry made an “Mhmm” sound from his throat. He lay very still, not wanting to move his arms or his legs because each of his limbs had received more than a few blows from his uncle.

Calla looked at Harry’s chest, fearing the sheer number of bruises that were forming under his shirt.

_It’s okay, Calla._

Calla’s face was set in almost a scowl, and she wiped at her face and the tears that hung in the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Harry, I thought we would be able to get through the rest of the summer without stupid ugly Vernon just-”

Calla shook her head, trying not to become angry.

She grabbed the pillow and gently lifted Harry’s head so it was resting on the pillow. Harry’s mouth twitched as the movement agitated his head. She watched as Harry forced his expression into something more neutral.

“Try to rest, Harry.” Calla put her hand softly on her brother's hand as reassurance. She allowed herself to look into the smokey textures of Harry’s mind and saw the peace that he felt because she was here. She saw his anxiety about whether or not he would be able to hide these injuries from his friends. She felt his sadness and guilt over tonight’s event, his confusion regarding Dobby, the lingering fear because of how aggressive Vernon was earlier. 

She reached over him and grabbed the other pillow and pulled out the sleeping pad that the Dursley’s had given them for a second bed. She set up her bed, but sat down and listened as the Dursley’s fell asleep.

She watched the unsteady rise and fall of Harry’s chest. His expression didn’t show the amount of pain he was feeling throughout his body. A bruise on his face started to gain more color as the hours passed. I’m going to figure out how to pick the lock on the cupboard one way or another.

. . .

_Thanks for reading! If you’ve never read hurt comfort, and aren’t used to some of the violence, just know, that’s part of the genre! Let me know what you think about Calla, or what you want to see from the brother/sister relationship, as she is a non-canon character._


	2. Secrets Locked Away in Trunks

**Chapter 2: Secrets Locked Away in Trunks**

**. . .**

The house had gotten quiet, and the loud snores coming from next door told Harry that his aunt and uncle were still asleep. He had been waking up every hour, every time his chest felt tighter and his torso was in more pain.

Calla slipped out of the room with one last glance at Harry to try and pick the lock on the cupboard, knowing medical help was packed away in one of the pockets of Harry’s trunk.

He watched her leave, hoping she didn’t come back empty. 

He fell into another restless nap that lasted twenty minutes and ended when he jerked awake, irritating some of his muscles and joints. He groaned, realizing that he had become increasingly nauseous. He held his hand to his forehead, in an attempt to ease his discomfort, and was surprised to find it damp with small droplets of sweat.

He focused on just breathing in and out, closing his eyes, ignoring the throbbing in his chest.

He opened his eyes a few minutes later and stared at the shapes of the shadows on his wall. Time inched by, each minute dragged on longer than the last one. Harry drifted in and out of sleep a few more times, and every time he awoke he only wanted to fall back asleep. Calla still hadn’t returned, and Harry started to wonder about the start of school.

_ I don’t think I would be able to hide this, Ron and Hermione would know something was up.  _ Harry was used to wearing baggy clothing and coming up with excuses for a few minor bruises, but considering the way he felt right now, he wasn’t sure if he could fake it well enough.

Harry eventually noticed that his hands and feet were starting to have this tingling feeling. He lifted one of his hands in front of his face and wiggled his fingers and wondered why that could be happening. He turned his head slightly but was overcome with a wave of nausea and lightheadedness.

His breathing quickened, but it felt like something was simply sitting on top of his chest, he just couldn’t draw in enough air. His head continued to feel like it was spinning and at some point, he fell into an unconscious daze, and Harry’s lost all sense of how much time had passed.

With a creak, Calla pushed open their bedroom door. Harry didn’t stir, but Calla could hear him working hard to breathe, but it sounded strained. He was sweating, and his brow was furrowed.

“Harry?” Calla whispered. 

He let out a faint moan and tried to lift his arm, but he felt sluggish as if his muscles had been replaced with dumbbells.

Calla’s mouth was set in a hard line. “You look worse…” She put on the desk all the vials that she had brought up from Harry’s trunk. Each one had a label with lots of scribbled writing.

_ I feel lightheaded and short of breath, or like I’m going to be sick _ , Harry thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you sent.”

Harry tilted his head to dismiss her apology and said, “Lightheaded… short of… breath...very uh nauseous, and my head hurts”

Calla picked up the first vial she saw and scanned the writings. She was about halfway through the pile when she found one that read:

_ Internal Bleeding Expellant 1 Serving _

_ Use for internal bleeding received from blunt trauma, symptoms include chest pain, shortness of breath, vomiting, dizziness, tingling in the hands and feet, swelling, bruising around the abdomen _

“I think this might help, er, have you felt tingling in your hands and feet?”

“Mhmm”

Calla uncorked the vial and lifted it to her brother’s lips. He swallowed the potion and closed his eyes. Calla sat down on the bed next to him and watched his expression.

He still seemed very out of it, so Calla continued to search through the vials until she found one labeled  _ Blood Replenishing Solution _ and another labeled for headaches. She gave them both to Harry as well.

A few minutes later, Harry’s breathing had normalized, and the potions appeared to have done their job. He opened his eyes and looked much less agitated. Calla handed him cream for bruising and allowed Harry to lift his shirt and apply it gently to his arms and chest.

“I think you had internal bleeding,” Calla said as Harry wiped away the last of the cream on his forearms. 

Harry held a hand to his stomach. “Glad I had that potion then.”

“Yeah, where did you get all these? I didn’t realize you had so many...” said Calla.

“I spent a few days in the hospital wing at the end of last year, and I nagged Mrs. Pomphrey and asked her about all of the potions she had and what ailments they were for. Then I wrote everything down on a label and took a tiny vial of any potion that I thought I would need this summer.

“Ah. Quick thinking on your part.”

Harry raised both eyebrows, “Eh, I was just really worried about, trying to hide this…”

Calla looked down at her hands and nodded. They had never told anyone about any of this.

One time when a primary school nurse noticed a few bruises on Harry, she sent a letter home to the Dursleys. Vernon evaded any inquiries from their school and blamed it all on Harry’s clumsy nature, but still beat Harry for not hiding it better. Vernon threatened that if Harry ever went to anyone crying and complaining about Vernon’s methods for disciplining, he would pull him out of school and make his life a living hell.

Harry mulled over in his head what he had told himself for years.  _ Nobody talks about how their parents discipline them, that’s just weird, so I’m not going to either. It’s only gotten worse recently because Vernon is so terrified of magic, and it’s not like I can stop having magic, so I’m just going to have to live with this. Calla is good at staying out of trouble, and as long as I make sure she isn’t on the receiving end of Vernon’s temper, we can get through each summer no problem. _

Calla could see an angry uncle Vernon at the forefront of his mind and she could feel Harry calming his anxieties, she knew he was mulling things over in his mind. Harry had always said that things would be much worse if they ever try to make a fuss, so keeping quiet is just saving them from even more pain.  _ Harry knows what’s best for me _ , Calla reassured herself.

Harry looked at his sister saying, “Don’t give me a pain-relieving potion yet, I only have a few servings, and I need to save those. I’ll be fine for now.”

The younger Potter sister looked skeptical but moved all of the vials into a drawer in Harry’s desk. Harry suddenly noticed a few other things Calla had put down on the desk:  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 _ by Miranda Goshawk,  _ A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration _ by Emeric Switch,  _ Magical Drafts and Potions  _ by Arsenius Jigger,  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ by Newt Scamander.

“I’m glad you thought to grab those, you picked some of the more interesting subjects. Just don’t let Vernon see them,” warned Harry.

“I won’t,” Calla replied cheerfully.

“So you were able to pick the lock that he put on the cupboard?”

“Uh, actually no… I’m no good at picking locks. I um… snuck into Vernon’s room and took the keys.”

“What?!”

“Shhhh, Harry, don’t wake them up!”

Harry sat up quickly, but winced, remembering that he hadn’t taken anything for the pain. “Ahhhrrrg, not ready for that,” Harry said through a few prolonged breaths, squeezing his hands into fists. Calla put a hand on his shoulder to encourage him to rest. Harry slowly relaxed from his doubled-over position and shifted back onto the pillow.

He spoke in a low whisper with harsh consonants. “You snuck into their room?! What if they woke up Calla? Vernon would’ve flipped out!”

“I know okay, I know it was a risk, but you needed the potions.”

Harry glared up at Calla. “Promise me you’ll never do something stupid like that again.”

“I was looking out for you, it wasn’t stupid.”

Harry looked up at the ceiling. “Thank you,” he paused for a moment. “But I’m still not okay with you… taking risks like that.”

“You do it all the time.” Calla knew that sneaking into Vernon’s room could’ve ended badly, but she wasn’t going to apologize.  _ I was successful, wasn’t I? _

“How’d you know where to find the keys?” Harry asked.

Calla scrunched up her face. “It was a lucky guess--well actually it was pretty unlucky. A few weeks ago I noticed that while Vernon was telling Petunia where he hid Dudley’s tv remote, he was thinking very vividly about underwear. I didn’t understand why at the time, but when I was thinking about it tonight, I thought why not check his underwear drawer? Turns out that is where he hides everything.”

“I’m sorry you had to witness that man’s briefs,” Harry sniggered.

“It wasn’t pretty,” Calla said laughing quietly.

. . .

The very next day, Vernon spent most of the afternoon working on the security measures of Calla and Harry’s bedroom. He put bars on their window and installed multiple locks outside their door. While he worked he reminded them that he would never allow either of them to go back to Hogwarts, giggling to himself as he worked.

Harry and Calla spent the next few days confined in Harry’s room, only being let out to use the restroom. Petunia came once a day to give them some water, but she ignored their request for food. Harry used the time to rest and heal, applying more of the bruising cream to his skin. Almost all of the bruises that would have been visible under his Hogwarts robes had faded. The cut on his forehead would be gone after one more application of the cream. Harry still refused to take any pain reliever potion, determined to ration it out when he needed to keep up appearances, but that has made his time at the Dursleys more than a little uncomfortable.

Calla had been busy pouring through Harry’s old textbooks, of which she found transfiguration to be the most intriguing.

One evening, as the sky outside turned to dusk, bored from the last week of being shut inside the same four walls, Calla asked Harry if she could practice reading into his thoughts.

“What did Dobby call it again?”

“Legilimency,” Harry finished.

Calla wagged a finger in the air. “That’s it. Well, go ahead, don’t fake any emotions yet, just think of something.”

Harry closed his eyes and envisioned Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans.

Calla bit her bottom lip. “Eh, I don’t know what color it is. It’s magical?” Harry made a gesture. “No, so it’s kind of magical. It’s a package, a little square...Christmas gift!”

“You’re just guessing.”

Calla, with a mildly irritated expression, exclaimed, “Okay, well I know you’re feeling happy about it. It’s food! It’s something edible!”

“Yeah. Hold on, can I make it easier now?” When Calla nodded, Harry brought to mind his first train ride to Hogwarts, the first time he had ever tried one of these beans. He remembered his excitement about every new thing he learned about magic, his nerves about making friends, his embarrassment about his fame, and the sweet joy of trying the different beans and laughing with Ron about all the quirky flavors.

“Candy, you’re trying candy for the first time…” Calla continued to try to read Harry’s thoughts.

“Where was I?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, you were one place but you were everywhere, there’s a lot of green, there are so many places at once… how is that possible? Aw, did you think of a really hard one?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. I was thinking about Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean, and the first time I ever tried it while riding the train to Hogwarts last year.”

Calla put one hand to her face, “Ohhh you were on a train, I can see it now. You were trying the candy with Ron, right? I can see his red hair. No fair, I’ve never heard of that candy before.”

“Hey, my brain has heard of it, and you’re the one reading my mind,” Harry teased back.

They kept practicing for a while and fell asleep early in the evening.

The clock had barely passed midnight when the bright headlights of a Ford Angela lit up the interior of Harry’s room. Hedwig screeched and Calla bolted awake and shielded her eyes so she could see out the window.

Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed. “Ron! Fred, George, what are you all doing here?”

Ron beamed at his best friend from the backseat. “Rescuing you of course! And Calla, hi-ya!”

“You guys share a bedroom?” Fred asked.

George added, “Not that we would judge, Mum’s got our buns fitted tightly into a bed wherever there is space at the Burrow.”

Calla was gawking at the fact that there was a car hovering a few inches from her bedroom window. “How- what?”

“Calla makes for a cleaner roommate than Ron, I’ll tell you that, but the Dursleys only gave us one bedroom.”

“Fair enough,” George shrugged.

Ron waved at them both, “Grab all your stuff, Harry, you’re not staying one more day with them!”

“Brilliant!” Calla said. “But some of our stuff is locked in a cupboard downstairs…”

“Not to worry Calla Potter, George and I can pick a lock,” Fred tapped a finger to his head.

“Oi, you’ll have to show me how sometime! And be careful not to wake the Dursleys,” Calla replied.

They drove the Ford Angela to the driveway of Harry’s house and snuck in to grab his stuff, working in silence. Harry and Calla packed up everything in their room as quickly as they could. Harry was moving stiffly, as any movement agitated his injuries.

Calla recommended he take some pain reliever potion, to which Harry obliged. He sighed as the potion took effect within moments. And he smiled as he felt significantly better than he had in a week.

The Weasley’s finished collecting Harry’s things from the cupboard and flew the car back over to Harry’s window. They ripped the bars off of his window using the acceleration of the car, but the loud BANG tore the Dursley’s from their peaceful sleep.

Harry and Calla furiously opened the window and put Hedwig’s cage and the rest of their stuff into the trunk of the car as quickly as possible.

“POTTER!” Vernon growled, keys jangling as he unlocked every lock on the door.

“Open the side door, hurry Ron!” Harry urged. Calla climbed through the window and into the car and turned to hold her hand out to help Harry do the same.

Vernon burst into the room, and upon seeing Harry said, “Petunia, he’s escaping!” Harry threw his body into the car, and Ron and Calla grabbed onto him. Vernon leaned out the window and took hold of Harry’s leg.

Harry yelled at his uncle to let go. Ron hollered at his brother to drive. A few seconds later, Vernon was flung out the window and the Ford Angela sped away from Privet Drive. Harry, breathing fast, shut the door behind him, and straightened out his shirt, discreetly rubbing at a few bruises that were sore after that whole experience.

“I’m glad we could get you outta there, Harry,” Ron remarked.

“Me too.”

“And it’s good to finally meet you, Calla! Harry’s told us all about you!” 

Calla smiled at the red-headed boys, “And I’ve heard lots about the Weasley’s!”

. . .

They made it back to the Burrow by morning, and after a scolding from Mrs. Weasley, Harry and Calla brought their things in from the car and settled into the Burrow.

Ron was busy setting up an extra bed for Harry to sleep on when Harry excused himself to use the restroom.

Harry entered the bathroom and found what he was looking for; he scanned the contents of the medicine cabinet, amazed at the wide variety of potions. He only took a few portions of each potion that he needed to conceal his injuries until they had fully healed, although he felt a pang of guilt for taking from his friend. He had thought about asking Mrs. Weasley but was not about to answer any questions as to  _ why _ he needed them.  _ This is better, so I don’t make any kind of a fuss. I’ll take care of this myself. _ Harry closed the cabinet and drank some pain reliever, just enough that moving or a slight bump on one of his bruises wouldn’t cause him to react abnormally.

He put the rest of the vials back into his trunk, and made his way downstairs,l

What the Weasley Burrow lacked in coordination and tidiness, it made up for in warmth and originality. Harry couldn’t help but smile every time he passed the sewing needles that moved on their own, or dishes that cleaned themselves. The bookshelves on the left and right of the fireplace were full of information on magic; although, as Harry leaned closer, he noticed not all of the books were in languages he recognized.

“Looking sharp, Harry,” Fred said as he walked by, orange juice in his hands.

“Oh, yeah, good...” Harry spun around to return the greeting but Fred was already in the hallway and moving quickly away.

Mrs. Weasley moved through the kitchen without pause, cleaning, cooking breakfast, humming to herself all the while. The smell of bacon and biscuits quickly drew the Weasley boys to the kitchen, and Calla sat down beside Harry. They all began putting food onto their plate and chatting away.

“You look far too skinny for a boy your age, Harry!” Mrs. Weasley piled more eggs onto his plate. The sound of footsteps clomping happily down the stairs preceded the entrance of the youngest Weasley, Ginny.

“Mum, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yes, dear, it was on the cat!”

Ginny’s eyes grew wide when she saw Harry. Calla waved, excited to meet a girl that would be in her year, but Ginny didn’t seem to see her.

Calla noticed immediately the embarrassment, surprise, and nervousness that Ginny felt. She was thinking about a  _ boy, smiling, he had black scruffy-looking hair, glasses, and a lightning scar--wait, Harry? _

Calla quickly looked away, feeling bad that she had looked into her mind.  _ Does Ginny have a crush on my brother? It doesn’t matter to me either way, but that’s a strange thought for me to read, oops.  _ Ginny backed out of the kitchen and rushed back upstairs.

“That’s Ginny. She’s been asking about you all summer,” Ron told Harry. 

_ Well, I suppose in the Wizarding World, Harry is really famous,  _ Calla reminded herself.  _ Hopefully, she still wants to be my friend. _

Later that day, while the boys worked on de-gnoming the garden, Ginny introduced herself to Calla, and they talked about their excitement to go to Hogwarts.

“Hopefully we can both be in Gryffindor, and have classes together and everything!”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Ginny agreed, but Calla saw her nervousness.  _ What if…?  _ Ginny thought, and Calla sensed  _ a torn-up hat smiling evilly, the tables in the Great Hall stretching on endlessly, the color green, snakes, silvery banners waving at a quidditch match, the enemy of Gryffindor... _

Thoughtfully, Calla added, “Of course, we still have to be sorted, and I’m really nervous about that part.”

“You are?”

“Sure! Harry got put in Gryffindor, but what if I don’t? The thing I keep telling myself is that no matter what house I get put in, I’m still going to enjoy my time at Hogwarts, I’m going to make a lot of new friends, and Harry is still going to be my older brother.”

“But Fred and George have told me horrible stories about what it’s like to be sorted, all kinds of tests, and creatures,” Ginny said.

“I think the bravest thing you could do is walk right into the Great Hall and be ready for anything to happen! Bravery doesn’t mean you never get scared, it just means that you don’t let fear stop you.”

Ginny smiled at that.

Calla added, “And stop listening to Fred and George, anyway. Harry told me about the sorting ceremony, and all we have to do is put on a talking hat.”

“Really? Why couldn’t they just say that?” pouted Ginny as Calla laughed.

. . .

A week later, Harry has joined the Weasleys on a shopping trip to Diagon Alley and after getting lost in Knockturn Alley, bumped into Hermione, his best friend from Hogwarts.

“What have you done to your glasses? Oculus Reparo!” Hermione fixed Harry’s glasses with a wave of her wand, and Harry took them off his face for a second to admire her skill.

“Thanks, I really need to remember that one.”

“No problem! And besides all the dirt, you look terrible, almost skinnier than when I last saw you, are you alright Harry?”

“I’m fine, I got a nasty stomach bug this summer, so I haven’t eaten much these last few weeks. I’m over it now, and a good thing, Mrs. Weasley is an excellent cook.”

Harry and Hermione walked up towards the bookstore in Diagon Alley, although they only made it as far as the doorway, the entire store was full of people.

“Oh Harry dear, there you are!” Mrs. Weasley said, brushing the dirt off of Harry’s robes. 

Calla stood with all of the other Weasley children, feeling overwhelmed with all these people around her when she heard Harry’s name being mentioned. She turned and Harry smiled at her.

“I was wondering where you had ended up! The floo network is really something…” Calla said reflectively.

“Tell me about it.”

Hermione introduced herself brightly to Calla. “Hi, you’re Calla, right? Harry’s told me all about you!”

“Hi, then I’m guessing then you must be Hermione?”

“Are you here to see Professor Lockart too?”

“Professor?” Harry asked.

Hermione brushed her hair behind her ears as she said, “Yeah, he’s going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year!”

Hermione moved further into the bookstore, eager to see her new Professor. Harry tried to hang towards the back of the room with Calla, but the crowd just pushed him farther into the room.

Calla could feel the shifting, drifting, anxious thoughts of all the people in the room, the images blended together, and many people had the same thing on their mind: a charming man with a winning smile and dirty blonde hair.  _ That must be Professor Lockhart _ , she thought.

Calla tried to block out the minds of the people in the bookstore but was only somewhat successful. Calla glowered but honed in on a few intriguing thoughts. Someone off to the right was buried in a book,  _ feeling excited as they flipped through each page, someone stood next to them, feeling impatient, and thinking about leaving to go get lunch. _ _ This people store is so crowded with books, I can’t even see the names written on the people’s foreheads, _ Calla heard someone say, but before she could even process those words, Calla saw an image of a  _ hungry person ripping a page out of the book and stuffing it down their throat, thrilling, exciting-- _

Calla held a hand to her head and closed her eyes, scowling.

“You all right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I’m just getting all the thoughts confused, there are so many people--” but she was cut off by a roar of applause and everyone’s attention turned to the front of the bookstore. Gilderoy Lockhart strutted onto the stage and smiled as someone took his picture.

“We don’t have to stay in here then, we can wait outside. Try to just tune out everyone’s thoughts if you can. Also, I wanted to tell you about what I overheard after I came out of the Floo Network,” Harry said.

“Oh yeah?”

Harry and Calla stepped out of the bookstore, leaning against the brick exterior of the shop.

Harry looked around for a second before saying, “You remember me telling you about Draco Malfoy? I saw him and his father trading a few items in a shop in Knockturn Alley. I’m not sure what it was all about, but apparently, they have been doing raids on wizard households, looking for dark magical objects.”

“Okay, wow, I guess I’m not surprised they’re involved in shady tradings. So they were trying to get rid of a few things that they wouldn’t want the Ministry to find?” Calla wondered.

“Seems like it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Malfoy had chests full of illegal, dark, magical objects, Ron’s told me about how he did all sorts of terrible things during the First Wizarding War.”

“I wonder what kinds of magical objects are illegal,” said Calla honestly. 

Harry then described a few of the strange objects he had found as he wandered around the shop, much to Calla’s excitement.

There was another roar of clapping coming from the inside of the shop.

Calla glanced back into the shop, feeling each mental mood shift as everyone fawned and gasped at Lockhart. Harry looked around at the other witches and wizards bustling about, shopping and talking and scanning shelves.

A few minutes later, Ron and Ginny stepped out of the shop and squinted at the bright sun shining into their faces.

“He certainly was a character wasn’t he?” Ron commented. Behind him, a photographer stepped out of the shop and put on a few spectacles and started to write a few things down in a small notebook. Ron added, “Lockhart loves getting his picture taken too.”

Draco Malfoy suddenly emerged from behind the photographer. Calla narrowed her expression as she instantly picked up on the  _ coldness of his thoughts. He held his chin high, believing to be better than anyone else, and cruel comments and jabs cluttered the front of his mind. He was a spoiled kid, too, and his father was incredibly hard on him.  _ She struggled to read much else other than hostility, so she stopped attempting to interpret anything from his mind, and instead shot daggers with her eyes at him.

“Well if it isn’t Potter and Weasley. I’m sure your mum’s in there figuring out how much of your house you’ll have to sell just to pay for your school books,” he smirked in Ron and Ginny’s direction.

“I’m sure your dad’s off trading away all the illegal things he’s got in his house,” Calla said boldly. Ron and Ginny looked shocked. Harry just smirked.

“Pardon me, who are you? I like to know the name of people that have a habit of falsely accusing my father,” scoffed Malfoy.

“I’m Calla, Harry Potter’s little sister.”

“There are two Potter children?” The photographer behind Malfoy suddenly perked up, and took a step toward the group, listening intently.

“Yes my parents had two kids, unlike your family who after one child, realized they had made a mistake,” Harry fought back, arms crossed.

“Ha!” Ron didn’t bother to hold back his surprised laugh. Even Ginny was smiling next to him.

“Well, unlike your family, Potter, both my parents are still alive.”

Ron chimed in, “Oi, that was a low blow.”

There was a bright FLASH! And all the kids blinked at the blinding light and looked to see the photographer grinning from ear to ear and holding his camera.

“What are you-” Harry started to argue.

“No, it’s alright, I wanted it candid. You’ll see it in the paper tomorrow!” He scribbled away in his notebook, muttering to himself about a ‘long-hidden secret’.

“How fitting. Harry Potter buying his school books is always newsworthy, but Harry and his fiery sister standing on the street doing nothing--together, you’ll make the front page!”

Ginny looked bravely up at Draco. “Leave them alone.”

“Look at that Potter! Got yourself a girlfriend?”

“Draco, play nicely,” a smooth voice sounded. A wizard with long bleach blonde hair joined their group outside the bookstore. He held a cane at his side with a crystal clear jewel adorning the top of it.

The photographer snapped one more photograph of Harry and Calla before shuffling quickly away, his cape flapping behind him.

“I don’t appreciate him taking our picture, and he was feeling way too happy about it,” Calla said under her breath to her brother. At that moment, Hermione stepped out of the shop and stood in between Calla and Ginny, peering at the two blonde wizards across from them.

“Mr. Potter, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Lucius reached his hand out as if to shake Harry’s hand, but instead brushed away Harry’s hair to reveal his scar. At his touch, Harry withdrew, ever so slightly. “Remarkable, the history you represent, but as the presence of the camera also suggests...there is still some Potter history that the Wizarding World has yet to learn?”

“Hey I’m not history, I’m standing right here,” said Calla.

One of Lucius’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “Clearly.”

“She’s my sister,” Harry stated.

“Yes, at least you have one member of your family left. Pity about your parents, but it’s curious that both of you managed to survive that night. Curious, too, that I’ve never heard a mention of you.”

“It’s shocking, I know. I admit that I have remained a well-kept secret until now and I too have spent the last ten years in denial about my own existence,” Calla shot back.

Before Lucius could respond, Mr. Weasley stepped outside of the bookstore, followed by Hermione’s parents.

“Arthur,” Malfoy said, and Mr. Weasley returned the greeting.

“I’m surprised you have time to shop, it’s such a busy time at the Ministry, all those raids. I hope they’re paying you over time, it’s obvious you could use it.” Malfoy reaches into Ginny’s cauldron, removing a very old, battered copy of  _ A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration. _

“It’s been a welcome break from work actually,” Mr. Weasley replied, not losing his smile.

“Yes, I’m sure, and it will be back to work soon for us all, hmm? School is just around the corner. Draco enjoyed meeting his classmates all last year, I’m assuming you must be Miss Granger? Yes, he’s told me all about you… and your parents. Muggles, are you?” Lucius could barely disguise his distaste for them.

“Yes.” Hermione stuck her hand as if to shake Mr. Malfoy’s hand. Mr. Malfoy looked down and slowly moved towards returning the greeting but Hermione said, “Oh excuse me, I was hoping you would hand back Ginny’s book now.”

“Hmm,” Lucius sneered, looking more displeased than ever as the defiant young witch simply flared at him. Lucius ignored Hermione’s outstretched hand and put Ginny's books back into her cauldron. 

“It’s still rather crowded outside of this bookshop, why don’t we continue shopping elsewhere, Harry, Ron, girls?” Mr. Weasley urged the kids to walk elsewhere.

Mr. Malfoy lifted his staff. “Come Draco.”

“See you at the Ministry, Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley.

“See you at school,” Draco said to his peers.

Harry, Calla and the Weasley’s turned and started walking away from the bookstore. Calla went up to be next to Ginny.

“You were brave back there to stand up to Malfoy.”

“You too, Calla. I think we’ll both be in Gryffindor!” Ginny said beaming. Her cauldron was full of books and hanging at her side, making a little clunky sound as they walked down the cobbled street.

. . .

_ So, how do we like Calla and Ginny as friends…? Sidenote, I will be moving through the events of the second book with each chapter, and for some scenes, instead of simply re-writing them with Calla, I might just summarize, or show a different scene that happens around the same time. In this chapter, I frankly didn’t feel like re-writing the scene with Lockhart, so, that’s one example of it. Some of the hurt/comfort scenes in the second book I will be keeping :) _


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